


During the Storm

by FlufferNutterButter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlufferNutterButter/pseuds/FlufferNutterButter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But that was how things used to be. Now? </p><p>Now, you can’t even hear the things that go bump in the night.</p><p>Now, the dark is a silent, cold, terrifying void.</p>
            </blockquote>





	During the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Alternately titled "The Calm".
> 
> Get it? No? I'm not funny, am I?
> 
> I was struck with this super cute idea about half an hour ago.

The lights are off.

The lights are off, and you’re absolutely _terrified_ of the dark.

It wasn’t always this way; the dark used to be fun. You could play games, hide and seek, tag, and things like that in the dark. The dark is- _was_ -absolutely _purrfect_ for hunting. The dark used to be your favorite thing. When other little girls would get frightened of the things that go bump in the night, you’d be the one to brave the closet with a blanket cape and a plastic baseball bat.

But that was how things used to be. Now?

Now, you can’t even _hear_ the things that go bump in the night.

Now, the dark is a silent, cold, terrifying void.

You can’t see anything in front of you, you’re surrounded by such complete darkness.

You’re crying.

You’re sitting on the floor of a room in the interior of Meenah’s house, a room without windows, with your knees tucked to your chest as you sob. You can’t even hear the sounds you’re making.

Part of you wants to scream as loud as you can, call for help, but another part of you is rationalizing that there’s nothing really that wrong. You’re just scared.

The rationalizing side is losing out to your panic, panic that has already stolen your voice. You probably couldn’t scream if you tried.

You wonder if anyone can hear you, anyway. You wonder if they’re looking for you.

You wonder why they aren’t.

But you’re wrong. You’re wrong because, if you could hear, you would have just heard the footsteps approaching, the door opening, and the relieved exhale of the person walking into the room. When you hazard to open your eyes, you realize that the room is no longer completely dark; you can see the faint outline of the corner of the room you had come to face in your lightless confusion. When you turn and blink the most prominent tears out of your eyes, you can see him, too. The glow from a cell phone casts a little light around the room and on his face, highlighting characteristics and shadowing features in a way that should be scary.

You could never be scared of that face.

He’s by your side in the next moment, wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair as you let the last of your fearful tears slip over and spill. He kisses them as they fall.

When you stop crying, you kiss him back.

At some point, the light of his phone turns off.

At some point, the lights come back on.

At some point, you stopped caring.


End file.
